The Warlord took his time rearranging the pack's supplies back on the shelves. It had taken some time to fix what was salvageable, and restock their supplies. Through work and trade, but so far their winter did not look as if it would be as lean as he had first feared. The Armada wolves were a hard working bunch, and it pleased him how they had pulled goethe, despite the trauma and loss of the flood.

He dragged another coat into the store room, and placed it on the rack until it was hanging beside the rest. Just a few more coats left to drag in.


"Speech"

Whisper still didn't like coming into the Col. It still felt cold and hard to breathe and sometimes, she just couldn't move any further. Today though, seemed to be a good day. She could hear someone shuffling up ahead and she focused on the sound rather than the way it felt like the walls were closing in on her.

It looked like grandpa was trying to do some rearranging and there was still a pile of coats left to put on the shelf. Sure they were big and heavy, but she could help, right? She picked one up as best she could, the bulk of it dragging behind her and she stood up on her rear legs to try and get it on the shelf but no matter how far she stretched... she just couldn't quite get there. To make matters worse, she managed to pull one of the coats that had already been put away back of the shelf to land squarely on her head, the weight of it flattening the tiny pup with a startled yelp.

“Speech”

The Warlord turned around at the sound of noise, and was just in time to see a coat fall right over the pup. He hadn't even gotten a chance to see which pup it was, but by the size he could guess it was one of Morts. His muzzle twitched with delight, but when he spoke his voice was serious. "Bast, come quick! There's a ghost in the storeroom, it's possessing a coat!" Bast wasn't in hearing but the pup didn't need to know that.


As he walked closer, he made sure to make enough noise that the pup knew he was coming, he grabbed the edge of the coat and gave it a little wiggle. "Come out of there, ghost!"

The weight of the coat was pressing down on her like the water had, but in stark contrast it was warm, which was probably the only thing helping her cling to sanity. When her grandfather called for Bast saying there was a ghost, lavender eyes lit up. Her back end wiggled while the rest of her shook from the combination of anxious energy and trying to make herself not be scared, but what if he didn't think she was the ghost and there was actually a ghost in here? Wolves did die in the flood after all...

She was pulled from her spiraling thoughts by a crack of light appearing under the edge of her prison and she quickly dove for it, wrapping her paws around her grandfather's massive leg and growling ferociously. “Got yew!” The girl yelled before she had even hit her mark, heart just about trying to pound out of her chest, all thoughts of helping forgotten.

“Speech”

He wiggled the coat, and the pup took the bait. Launching at him and latching onto his paw. "Ahhh! Help! The ghost has me!" He cried, rocking back and away - which of course only brought the attached pup with him. "Ahh, such a strong ghost, I'm doomed!" He cried, and then made a show of looking down at his paw. "Wait a minute, your not a ghost, your a Whisper. How did you get under that coat?" He asked her, as if he didn't know exactly what had happened.


He studied her quizzically for a moment. "Was it magic?" He asked her, voice lowering into a serious whisper. Magic was serious stuff, after all.

Whisper giggled as her grandpa pulled back with her attached to his leg. She had a wide toothy grin on her face when he looked down and realised it was her. When he asked how she managed to get under the coat though, her face grew serious and she looked back to the pile of coats on the ground. “I's tryna help, but the ghost pushed'em on me! Or maybe magic, but probably ghosts.” She seemed quite cross with whatever had happened, and she certainly wasn't loosening her grip on the much larger wolf either, like a fluffy white bracelet, she refused to let go, just in case the ghosts tried to bury her in more blankets and coats. “Gotta tell'em SHOO! No ghosts go away!”

“Speech”

"Well, that's not good. What are we going to do about that?" He asked, placing his paw carefully on the ground. The young pup was still very much attached to it. He shuffled a few steps forward, carrying her up into the air, and then down again.  Bringing them closer to the coat that had fallen on her, and the shelving that held the rest.


He surveyed the mess and tilted his head to the side. "A ghost in the coats would be a disaster. You reckon we need to tell it to shoo?" He asked Whisper. "Let's do it together, on the count of three as loud as you can, okay?" He instructed her. He gave her a moment to agree, and then started counting.